


Life in Colour

by Fanfic_or_bust



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Incorporates Canon, M/M, Misunderstandings, Open Fic Night Exchange, open fic night, soulmates au where you can't see colour until you see your soulmate, they will, will they/won't they
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 05:49:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19245091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanfic_or_bust/pseuds/Fanfic_or_bust
Summary: David had long ago given up any hope of ever seeing in colour, because seeing in colour would mean meeting his soulmate. And that was impossible for David because he didn't have a soulmate. Well, that's what he thought. He was pretty sure at least. Okay, had anyone ever told him that? No. But he just thought that if he had a soulmate, he probably would have known by 34 years of age. Bottom line, he'd given up hope years before ever arriving in Schitt's Creek.So he was perfectly fine, living a monochrome life, preparing for an important meeting at Ray's about his incorporation papers for the general store he'd just leased, minding his own business, when a chance encounter at the Cafe Tropical would leave David's life changed forever. In more way than one.





	Life in Colour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1031](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1031/gifts).



> To my exchange partner/recipient: I really hope you like this! I didn't end up taking it to an E rating (although it does get a little mature at the end), just because it didn't feel right for the fic, but I really hope you enjoy my first ever take on a soulmate trope anyways! I had so much fun writing it, and I can't wait to see what you think :)
> 
> HAPPY OPEN FIC NIGHT!!!
> 
> Enjoy!

 

“Stop taking everything so  _ literally _ , David. The world is not just black and white!” His mother chastised, and David stopped himself from stomping his foot like a petulant child. He did, however, indulge in a dramatic eye roll. He couldn’t help himself. His mother drove him  _ crazy _ sometimes.

 

“Yeah, except that it  _ is. _ ” He replied, frustrated. He knew his mother had been seeing in colour for so long, she often forgot that not everyone had that same luxury. He’d heard the story many times, about how a young Moira Rose had been chatting up Don Johnson in a New York bar, when her eyes had caught with a bushy-browed stranger’s across the room, and suddenly the world had shifted into technicolour.

 

But despite having told this story about a thousand times throughout David’s life, she seemed to constantly forget that not everyone could see in colour, as she could. Moira Rose had never been accused of being selfless or altruistic by any means. Putting herself in other people’s shoes was not something she was exactly known for. 

 

Yes, she was capable of love, but she just reserved most of it for herself. Well, herself and Dad. As much as it seemed from the outside like she took him for granted, David knew nothing could be further from the truth. The love and dedication present between Moira and Johnny Rose could fill a stadium. However much of an odd couple they made, they were two sides of the same coin. 

 

If it hadn’t been for his parents, David might not have ever believed in true love or soulmates at all. He may have convinced himself it was all some big farce, that the entire world had come together to conspire against David, to make him feel stupid and vulnerable. Because how could something so crazy be true. And if it was true, why hadn’t David found his yet? He was 33 years old, he’d been to nearly every metropolis the world over, he’d seen hundreds of thousands if not millions of people over his life. And yet his world was still monochrome.

 

His mother ignored David, as though he hadn’t said anything. Another great skill of hers. If what you said didn’t line up with what she wanted to hear, it was often as though you hadn’t spoken at all. It  was a remarkably efficient way of getting people to do what she wanted, even if it didn’t endear people to her very much. 

 

“Nonetheless, I will still require your accompaniment to the cafe, David.” She replied, and David groaned and rolled his eyes again. He’d  _ told _ her he had other plans, that he was working on his business plan before his meeting with Ray later in the week. But Moira Rose was not to be deterred. “Oh,  _ really _ , David. Is supping with your Mother truly so unpalatable that you’d resort to base chicanery and other machinations to avoid spending even a modicum of time with me?!” She cried, and David sighed. He wasn’t going to win this one.

 

“Okay! Okay! No need to break out the  _ entire _ dictionary, I’ll go.” His mother smiled serenely, like the cat who ate the canary. She loved to win. “Just give me a minute to get ready.” he added, turning away from her and looking at the mirror on the wall.

 

“Do hurry up, David, and retrieve me from the office when you’re ready. I’ll just be visiting with your father, until then.” She was almost out the door by the time she finished, and David hadn’t bothered to watch her go. He was too preoccupied by the sweater he was wearing.

 

David leaned closer, to squint at the little strokes of grey that were visible on the borders of the white patches, where they met black. The grey looked suspiciously like it might be a colour of some kind, but he of course had no way to tell. The description of the sweater online had described it as ‘greyscale’, but David still felt a little uncomfortable about it. He preferred black and white, because he  _ knew _ what those were. His eyes had no problem discerning a crisp white or inky black. It was all the shit in between he couldn’t see.

 

Wearing grey was a necessary evil, when it came to procuring and curating a wardrobe aesthetic that was void of colour. But it always made him uncomfortable. While he was entirely fine with the way grey looked when paired with white or black, the problem with it was that was how every colour in the spectrum  _ also _ looked to him. And David refused to wear colour. Because fuck colours. For one thing, there was no way in hell he was ever going to put something on his body that he couldn’t appraise with his own aesthetic eye first. Second, colours just simply hurt his feelings. He didn't like thinking about them. Colours were for people with soulmates. And David didn’t have a soulmate, and he was never going to have one.

 

So fuck colours.

 

David squinted at the mirror. He looked perfect, as usual. “Okay then.” He said, with a little smirk, as he checked himself out, and then confidently walked across the room and out the door to find his mother. Maybe lunch wouldn’t be so bad, after all. It would be nice to get out of the motel room, for a while, anyways. And all he’d been doing for the last hour and a half was sketching little doodles of roses all over one page of his notebook, anyways. None of them were quite right yet, and sometimes taking a break was the best thing you could do, creatively.

  
  
  
  
  


“ _ What in the--? _ ” David asked, gaping at the sight of a massive tour bus with a cartoon bull painted across the side of it, pulled up out front of the cafe. He and his mother had walked over from the motel, but hadn’t seen the bus until the last second as it had parked around the corner. 

 

“It appears to be some sort of travelling athletics club.” His mother said, and David rolled his eyes and felt that familiar urge to stomp his foot.  _ Obviously _ it was some kind of travelling athletics club! But why were they  _ here, now?  _ David just wanted a quiet, quick lunch so he could eat and get back to working on his business plan. He’d had a long talk with Stevie the previous night, and it had helped him crystalize a lot of his ideas for the general store he was hoping to lease. But if he didn’t get them on paper soon, he was going to forget everything. 

 

“Yes, but what are they  _ doing _ here?” David asked, very aware of how whiny his voice sounded. He didn’t care.

 

“Well I assure you I don’t know, David!” His mother cried back, raising her voice to match David’s energy. She seemed almost as put off as he was, which was a little comforting. They cautiously approached the door of the Cafe Tropical together. 

 

Stepping inside, David had never seen the cafe so busy. There were people  _ everywhere _ , and the noise hit them like a truck as soon as the door had opened. They stopped immediately upon entering, unable even to think straight amongst the din of people. It was entirely unacceptable, although David  _ did _ manage to notice that almost every one of these strangers were men, probably early to mid 20s in age, and many were quite handsome. So that made things a little better.

 

David was a little surprised by their appearances, because he didn’t know that sports-people really dressed this sort of way. But almost every single one of them wore a crisp ironed shirt and tie, nice pants, and shiny polished shoes. A few wore matching black jackets that had the cartoon bull from the bus on the right breast, but as it was a fairly warm spring day, not many had opted for the second layer of clothing.

 

After a moment, a frazzled looking Twyla ran up to them. “Moira! David! Sorry we just had a massive rush of hockey players come in, I know it’s a bit crazy. But I think there’s a table in the corner, if you’re coming in?” She smiled at them brightly, and David tried to return it, although he knew it probably came out more like a grimace. 

 

“Thank-you, Twyla. You seem occupied, dear, we shall show ourselves to our seats.” His mother replied, and started towards the table in the back. David’s attention, however, was a little distracted by all the good looking, fit, young men that buzzed about the room, so he didn’t move to follow her immediately. His eyes kept bouncing from one guy to the next, and in his mind, David quickly assessed each of them:  _ Cute, I’d definitely hit that, needs to learn how to wax, hot, if I was desperate…  _

 

His eyes lingered a little longer on one player, who sat slightly apart from the rest at the counter. He wore a crisp button up shirt, just like the rest of them, but no tie. And he looked like he could have been a couple years older than the rest, as well, although it was hard to tell. He was hot in a delectably wholesome way, in a way that didn’t usually do things for David. But for this guy, he’d make an exception. 

 

His focus was drawn away from him a second later, when he heard his name being called. “David!” It was Stevie. She was at the other end of the bar, obviously chatting up one of the better looking (if very generic) players. David glanced at him, and immediately got the straightest of straight vibes, so looked back to Stevie. She could have this one. There were lots of others he could choose from. He’d already made some pretty intense eye contact with a couple guys that looked like they may enjoy sampling the red wine occasionally. David wondered how long they’d be in town, before waving back at Stevie and walking towards her. He hoped they might stay at the motel… that could be a lot of fun. 

 

His mind was elsewhere as he approached his best friend and the tall dark and blandsome guy she was chatting up. He was so distracted, it took him a second to register what his eyes were seeing. He wasn’t sure when it had happened.  _ How _ it had happened. But when it did, he stopped in his tracks, jaw falling open, and his phone dropped from his limp hands. It crashed to the floor, unnoticed. 

 

For a long moment, he just stood there, gaping. He was vaguely aware of Stevie’s concerned expression, but anything she was saying was lost to him. It was like he was underwater, and she was speaking from the surface. Or like she was one of the teachers from Charlie Brown. All David was able to focus on, was her  _ shirt. _ The soft, cheap, oversized flannel he’d seen her wear a thousand times, and never before taken a second glance at. It hung open over a baggy deep-v t-shirt, as usual. Everything was completely normal about it, except  _ one  _ thing.  _ One very important thing. _

 

It was  _ blue. _

 

David didn’t know how he knew what  _ blue _ was, but he did. He was able to look at her shirt, and his mind just  _ knew _ . That’s blue. Blue.  _ Why the fuck was he seeing blue? _

 

His eyes raked up to Stevie’s, whose were now wide with genuine alarm. David held her gaze for a second, before he noticed in his periphery-- “What the fuck!?” He asked, jumping back and staring, horrified, at the guy’s shirt. It was bright fucking blue.  _ What. The fuck.  _ Stevie also looked, but seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she looked back at David, now very concerned. 

 

“Okay,  _ what _ is going on with you?” She asked, putting her hand on David’s upper arm, bracing him. 

 

David didn’t answer at first. His head was whipping around the room. It was a field of greys and blacks…  _ and blues. _ The mural on the wall, Twyla’s apron, the guy at the counter’s shirt, that other guy’s tie, that cute one’s eyes… just pops of blue, everywhere he looked. Nothing else, just blue.  And it was still too much. It was wrong. It felt  _ wrong.  _ Why was this happening?

 

Panicked, he looked back to his best friend, thankful she was there. “Stevie, I think I’m having a stroke.” He said, voice shaking, completely serious. Her brows knit.

 

“Okayyyy…” She said, and she was opening her mouth to say something else, but David jumped in to interrupt.

 

“Stevie, I need to leave. Right now. And I need you to come with me. Now.” He said, and his voice was shaky.

 

“David, are you alright?” She asked, now putting her other hand on his other arm, standing before him, bracing both arms, and looking into his eyes, concerned. David’s eyes found hers, and found comfort for a brief moment, before they trailed down to once again look at the plaid flannel of her shirt. 

 

“ _ Now,  _ Stevie.” He choked, and she nodded.

 

“Okay.” She agreed, and she grabbed him by the arm and marched him out of the cafe and into the street. Which might have been a bad idea, because David stopped in his tracks, gaping up at the sky.

 

“ _ What the FUCK!?” _ He cried. In all his life, he’d  _ never _ imagined… “ _ That’s _ what it looks like?” He asked Stevie, who stared back at him, completely confused. If David wasn’t so panicked about what was happening to him, David might have found it beautiful. But he didn’t, because it was  _ scary. _

 

“Are you going to tell me what’s happening?” She asked, sounding equal parts worried and exasperated. 

 

“Let’s go back to the motel, first.” He replied, turning to hook his arm through Stevie’s and setting a very brisk pace for them as he marched them in the direction of home. David kept his eyes mostly on the ground, hoping not to see anything else that might upset him. But of course they passed a discarded food wrapper, some spit-out gum, a delicate little flower growing out of a crack in the pavement. David couldn’t escape it, it was  _ everywhere. _

 

And what was worse, when David looked up, there was  _ more. _ He stuttered in his step, almost tripping, but Stevie managed to keep him upright. David marvelled at the beauty of the colour green. Again, he didn’t know how he knew it. But he did. That was green. And it was kind of gorgeous, although maybe not better than blue. “Oh… My God.” David said, as he gawked around. 

 

 

By the time they got back to the motel, David was pretty sure he was seeing the entire rainbow, and he didn’t know how to feel about it. As they walked down the driveway, David noticed that there were bricks in the motel’s front that popped out now, pale pastel against a generic yellow-ish grey. He’d never noticed that before, that some were different. David saw the colours on the buttons of the soda machine from across the lot. Red, and Orange, and Purple, and Green. David lifted his key to the door, and saw the ugly maroon of the motel keychain. Turning the key, he unlocked the door and stepped inside, and…

 

“Oh. My.  _ GOD.” _ David shouted, his jaw dropping, as he looked around the room he’d been living in for the last two years. It was every shade of vomit there was. David wasn’t even sure how he  _ knew _ that, but he did. The colour palette of this room offended David’s senses so much, he found himself feeling a little faint. “Has--has this room  _ always _ looked this… fugly?” 

 

“Sorry I haven’t been able to get the Property Brothers over here to give the place a makeover.” Stevie replied, snarky, entering the room behind him. He turned to look at her. “But seriously, David, what is going on--”

 

“I’m seeing colours!” He blurted out, interrupting her. He couldn’t help it. This was too important. She just gaped at him for a minute, trying to process what he had just said. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth started opening and closing, though no words came out at first. 

 

“ _ What!?” _ She finally managed, and she grabbed David’s arm and steered him towards the bed. They both sat down, and Stevie turned her body to face him. “Tell me  _ everything. _ ” She demanded, and David didn’t even know where to start.

 

“It just… happened.” He stammered, not knowing what to say.

 

“ _ When? Where?” _ She prompted, rolling her hand in front of her, motioning for him to elaborate. 

 

“At the cafe, just now.” He answered, and his mind flashed back to the crowd of hockey players.  _ Oh, shit. _ He thought. 

 

“Oh, shit.” Stevie replied, with her remarkable talent for saying exactly what he was thinking. “Do you know who? Like, did it happen immediately, when you locked eyes with them? How did it happen? Did everything just all pop into colour at once?” Questions started pouring out of Stevie. She hadn’t met her soulmate, David knew that. It had been something they had in common, up until today. It was only natural that she would be curious.

 

“I don’t know who it was, it didn’t happen all at once. The first thing I saw in colour was your shirt…” David replied, and Stevie’s brows shot up.

 

“ _ My _ shirt? But that doesn’t--  _ I’m _ not--” Stevie stammered, and David shook his head.

 

“Umm, we met a long time ago, remember? If you were my soulmate, I think we would know by now.” David replied, and Stevie nodded thoughtfully. 

 

“So it was just my shirt?” She asked, still curious.

 

“No, it was the colour blue. Anything blue in the store just suddenly popped out to me.”

 

“Huh, I always thought this shirt was red.” Stevie replied, and David rolled his eyes. Stevie looked back at him. “So it was just blue?”

 

“At first, but then when we went outside I saw green, and then yellow, and now I’m pretty sure I’m seeing all of them.” David replied, panic starting bleed into his tone. Because  _ holy shit _ . Was this some sort of nightmare? If it was, he would really like to wake up. He pinched his hand, hard, but all it did was add a sore hand to his list of problems, because nothing changed at all. 

 

David had long ago accepted the idea that he would never find his soulmate. He’d travelled the world over, met more people than he could ever hope to remember, lived well into his 30s, and his world had remained monochromatic. He’d even lost everything, moved to Schitt’s Creek, and met a whole bunch of  _ new _ people he never would have met before, and still nothing. And now, today, on the  _ randomest _ fucking Tuesday there ever was, he’d met his soulmate. And he had no Earthly clue who they were. 

 

All David knew was that there was a very good chance they played  _ hockey,  _ and… okay, what the  _ fuck _ was with that? David couldn’t date a hockey player! Those stadiums were cold, and the air would dry his skin, and he was  _ not _ going to ruin his hair wearing a  _ toque _ , soulmate or no soulmate! Not to mention, David had secretly dated a hockey player in high school, and it had  _ not _ ended well. He had kind of sworn off them years ago.

 

This was  _ not _ good.

 

“And you have  _ no _ idea who it was?” Stevie asked, after a minute. Both of them had been lost in thought, but now she seemed to be re energized. 

 

“No,  like I said, didn’t notice anything until I saw your shirt.” He replied, trying not to snap at her. He could hardly help it though, he was so on edge. 

 

“Okay, walk me through everything you can remember.” Stevie suggested, ignoring any tone David might have taken with her like a good friend who knew he was going through a lot.

 

David sighed, and then closed his eyes, trying to remember. “I walked in with mom, and there were people everywhere. It was really loud.” He said, picturing everything in his mind’s eye. It was like being there again. He continued. “I started checking out the room, and Twyla came over and told us the table in the corner was free. Mom went to go sit down, but I was scanning the crowd for eye contact.” 

 

“Did anyone stand out?”

 

“A couple guys were hot. The guy by the counter, or the one with the blue eyes. A couple others. Your guy wasn’t bad, although very straight, I’m thinking.” David replied, trying to answer as honestly as he could, thinking back to remember every face while they were all still fresh in his mind. 

 

“But you’re not sure which one.”

 

“Again, no. And honestly all of them were giving me very heterosexual vibes, so...” 

 

“Okay, well, let’s try to narrow down what we can.” She replied, undaunted. “Was there anyone in the cafe, other than the hockey team, that you hadn’t met before? Someone from in or around town?” She asked, and David thought, hard. 

 

“No, just you, mom, Twyla, Bob and Ronnie, and that lady that always comes in to the restaurant to order meatloaf to go. Her and her husband. I don’t know their names.” Stevie looked at him, and her brow furrowed.

 

“And no one else? You’re sure?” She asked.

 

“I’m pretty sure the rest were all with that travelling band of ice goons.” David replied, and Stevie quirked an eyebrow.

 

“Watch it, one of those travelling ice goons is your soulmate and likely future husband.” She warned, teasing, and David groaned. He didn’t  _ want _ a travelling ice goon for a husband! This just wasn’t  _ fair!  _ David groaned in despair. “So do you know where that team is from? Are they from around here?” Stevie asked, suddenly. David looked at her.

 

“What? No. Why?” He replied, and she shot him a patronizing look, like it was a dumb question. 

 

“Umm, because wherever that bus is from, your soulmate is from there too.” She replied, and David’s eyes went wide. That was true. As much as he didn’t  _ want _ a sports-guy husband, he couldn’t deny that his world had shifted into colour that day, and there  _ were _ limits to the lengths that denial could go to protect him from uncomfortable truths. 

 

“Oh God, what if it’s from far away?” He asked, suddenly, and Stevie looked uncomfortable.

 

“I think I remember Belleville had a team called the Bulls… or did they move to Hamilton?” She asked, and David just stared at her blankly.

 

“Are those far? Where is Belleville or Hamilton?” He asked, he’d never heard of either before. Stevie winced.

 

“Far from each other, and even farther from us.” She replied, and David sagged. They sat there in silence, for a few moments, while both of their minds worked through the situation. Then, at almost the exact same time, both of their heads popped up.

 

“I think we should go back to the cafe.’

 

“Let’s go back to the cafe.” They both said at once, and suddenly David was scrambling to his feet and briskly crossing the room, Stevie hot on his tail.

  
  
  


They’d missed the team by five minutes. Twyla had informed them that they were on their way to a game in Sudbury, and had just been stopping on their way through town. David’s stomach had dropped at the news. “Sudbury. That’s far.” He said, dumbly, and Twyla just smiled back at him blankly, like she did every other time he said something weird or over her head.

 

The cafe had almost been empty upon David and Stevie’s arrival, and since he hadn’t eaten with his mother earlier, they decided to sit down in his favourite booth and order something for lunch. David had internally winced at the memory of his mother, thinking of how he planned to explain disappearing on her, leaving her to eat alone. He even felt a little bad. But not  _ too _ bad. He was mostly just worried about how annoying she was going to be about this for the next little while. He debated explaining to her about seeing colours, explain that that was why he had disappeared on her. But suddenly, he felt very sure about something.

 

“Stevie, I don’t want anyone to know. I don’t want to tell anyone. Please don’t tell anybody.” He hurried to say. He was so earnest in his desire for no one to know a thing about this, that he reached out and placed his hand over Stevie’s arm. He squeezed, and made eye contact with her. Touching between them was uncommon, and it was enough to let her know how serious he was.

 

“Okay--” She stammered, flustered by his intensity. “Do you mind if I ask why?” 

 

“I’m not ready for them to know. They don’t need to know. It doesn’t matter, anyways.” He replied forcefully. Stevie’s brows shot up.

 

“Okayyyy.” She said, in a very  _ Stevie _ way, and David narrowed his brows. “You’re right. Meeting your soulmate doesn’t matter at all. Not a big deal. Sure.” She added, and David withered under the sarcasm and accusation in her stare. 

 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t  _ meet _ them, anyways. So...” He argued, picking out the one thing that she’d said that he could dispute. 

 

“I think you know what I mean, David.” She replied, dryly. David swallowed, and looked off to the side, his fingers playing with the wrap on his pants. 

 

“Yeah, well, I just don’t really know what to do with this information, right now. It’s a lot to unpack, so, I just-- I don’t exactly need my family’s input at this-- juncture…” He replied, and thankfully, Stevie seemed to get it. She knew his family, and how they loved to get in his business at any opportunity. She knew David would never hear the end of it, if he told them. She nodded solemnly. 

 

“Okay. Deal. But David… we have to find him.” She said, and David shifted his eyes away nervously. 

 

“I was thinking, is it so bad, would it be so bad-- living life apart from your soulmate? I mean, we were getting by just fine before. And now I can see colours, so I’m actually already better off than I was before. Just think of what that will do for my aesthetic options for the store. I’m wondering if this is not a good thing in and of itself, and who needs this soulmate character, anyways?” He asked, and he peeked at Stevie, looking for her reaction. He’d been shooting for nonchalant in his delivery, but wasn’t sure if he’d succeeded. 

 

“David, you can’t be serious. You know you have a soulmate, now. Like, you know they didn’t die as a baby, or before you found them, or some shit. Your soulmate is  _ really _ out there. And you know how to find them. You can’t tell me you aren’t--”

 

“You’re right.” He interrupted. “I know where to find them.” He added, looking her directly in the eye, nodding and swallowing as his decision firmed. “There’s no rush. Let’s get through my business proposal and incorporation application, first. Then, maybe, we can think about finding my, my…”

 

“Your soulmate.” Stevie supplied, and David shuddered. The word still didn’t sit right. It didn’t feel like something that was  _ meant _ for him. 

 

“Yeah, them.” He agreed, and Stevie smiled. “Let’s just get through this week, and then will track down these Bulls, wherever they’re from.” He added, and she nodded.

 

“You know I was never going to tell anyone anyways, right?” Stevie asked him, suddenly, and he scowled at her, though it melted quickly into a fond smile. 

 

“Obviously.” He replied, and she smirked. 

 

“Okay good, just making sure.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The following week passed much quicker, thanks to David’s looming appointment with Ray to file his incorporation papers. He’d gone over his vision with Stevie about a thousand times. He could tell she was getting annoyed, but he couldn’t help himself. Besides, she was being a good friend and letting him talk about the store as much as he wanted. She had even contributed some very valuable feedback, too, so she wasn’t just letting it all in one ear and out the other. She was actually  _ listening _ to David, and it meant a lot to him.

 

Also, she hadn’t told anyone about the whole colour situation. Which was great, although even without her secret keeping it was getting to be harder to hide, he was finding. Because now that he could  _ see  _ colour, it was natural to want to comment on offending colour combinations when he saw them. On one day he’d thrown on a pair of his black shoes, only to discover they were really a dark brown, and he had to stop himself from throwing up all over them. He’d immediately thrown them in the trash afterwards, after failing to find a suitable place to burn them. 

 

Alexis had come in for the tail-end of this episode, and David had been forced to be quite creative as he explained why he was throwing away $700 shoes. He wasn’t entirely sure she’d bought it, but in the end, she’d let him off the hook. That time, at least. He was finding that it would  likely be just a matter of time before he would slip up again, and probably worse. He was going to have to face telling his family, soon. 

 

But not that day. Not on paperwork day. The day he’d been preparing for anxiously all week. He was as prepared as he could possibly be. He’d studied, he’d gone over every detail. There was nothing he hadn’t accounted for. His heart raced as he walked the short distance to Ray’s home-slash-place of business in the center of town. This was it. This was a  _ big deal. _ The general store was his, if he could just turn it into a business somehow. Preferably a business that made money. With no bail-outs required.

 

What the fuck was he getting himself into?

  
  
  


David was a little off-put to hear that Ray wouldn’t be helping him personally with his incorporation papers. Instead, some guy named  _ Patrick _ would be helping him and, okay, David hadn’t prepared for this. He liked to plan things, in his head. Go over scenarios. This wasn’t in  _ any _ of his scenarios. He held the little slip of paper out in front of him, not knowing what to do next.

 

And then, he was there. Patrick, apparently. Wearing a deep blue button up oxford with no tie, tucked neatly into some truly offensive denim jeans that were probably bought at Walmart or Giant Tiger, or some place similar. He had a short, styleless haircut, and zero accessories to speak of. Not even a ring, David noticed. But that wasn’t what was notable about the guy. No, it had nothing to do with the generic straight-boy uniform he had on, and everything to do with his  _ face. _

 

David had seen that face before. At the cafe. On the day the hockey team had been there. He’d thought he  _ had _ been one of the hockey players, or maybe a coach or trainer or something, because he was a little bit older than the rest. But he had been so sure he had been part of that group, probably because of his shirt. It was dressy, just like the team. Either way, David had expected that he was long gone, with all the other members of the team, and there was absolutely zero chance that David’s soulmate had remained in Schitt’s Creek.

 

Now, however small a chance it was, the foundation of the certainty in that knowledge crumbled around him. David didn’t think that there was any real chance that this straight denim-wearing business guy in front of him was his soulmate, but the  _ possibility _ of the idea was enough to throw him off completely. 

 

He had shaken Patrick’s hand in a daze. All his confidence was rocked to the core. Patrick was telling him that leasing the general store was a big deal. “Is it?” David asked, not really knowing what to say. His mind was racing a mile a minute. Patrick invited him to sit, so David did. He looked around the room nervously as he waited for Patrick to settle on the other side of the desk.  _ There’s no way this is him,  _ David thought. 

 

“So, let’s start with the name of the business.” Patrick began, and David turned back to him.

 

“Oh.” He said, trying to kickstart his brain. He’d decided earlier, but suddenly it was like all of the indecisiveness was returning to him. He was glad Stevie wasn’t there with him, because she’d probably kick him, after all the himming and hawing he’d done over the past few weeks. “I’m actually oscillating between two names at the moment, so if we could just leave that one blank, that would be great…” He added, and Patrick smirked. He  _ smirked.  _

 

__ “Sure, sure.” He said, and David furrowed his brows. “Give you more time to… oscillate.” He seemed to find something about what David had said amusing, but David didn’t quite get the joke.

 

They continued on for a few more very painful minutes, where it became clear that David wasn’t at all prepared for his meeting, and he made a complete fool of himself. All this, despite the fact that David  _ knew _ he was prepared, but none of the material he had prepared seemed to want to make itself available in his brain when he needed it. It really wasn’t fair. David hadn’t expected to be  _ ambushed _ by a potential soulmate at the most important meeting he’d had in many years, certainly since moving to Schitt’s Creek, at least. 

 

And now, he’d ruined his incorporation meeting, and he was going to have to fill out the papers on his  _ own. _ And to top it off, on the very off-chance that Patrick  _ was _ his soulmate (VERY off-chance, he thought), he had gone and humiliated himself in front of him. He hadn’t been able to give Patrick a single straight answer, despite having done nothing but talk about this business for weeks. He’d been up all night going over his notes.

 

But  _ fuck _ , one look at Patrick, and it was like it had all been blown out of his head. David also didn’t like the way that Patrick seemed to be not-so-subtly  _ mocking  _ him for it, either. Who did this guy think he was? They didn’t  _ know _ each other. With every further rebuke he made, it seemed more and more to David like this guy was telling him his  _ business _ was going to be a  _ failure. _

 

__ And yet, despite all that, when Patrick had declared him unfit and underprepared for their meeting, and sent him off with a blank form to fill in by himself “when he had a better idea of what he wanted to do with his business” (seriously, who did this guy think he was!?), David couldn’t help himself from asking. 

 

“So I haven’t seen you around before, how long have you been in town?” He asked, and Patrick smiled at him sunnily. 

 

“Just over a week, actually.” David pursed his lips and nodded.

 

“I see. And… how are you finding the town, so far? Has anything… interesting… happened since you got here?” He asked, trying to be sly about it. He couldn’t outright ask him ‘ _ have you started seeing in colours since that day at the cafe’ _ , but he thought this might be enough to draw a reaction out of him. But, if he did react, David wasn’t able to read it.

 

“Everyone’s been really welcoming so far, and I found this great trail to hike, so that was cool.” Patrick replied easily, and David hummed and smiled tightly, nodding. He hadn’t gotten  _ any _ vibes from him, there. In fact, he was possibly even more unsure than before. David didn’t like this at all. He felt flustered. He didn’t like being flustered. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


If David hadn’t been an otherwise sane person, he might have believed that over the following several weeks, he had started to fall in love with Patrick Brewer. But that was crazy. No, not crazy. That would be  _ absolutely batshit insane. _ He didn’t know why the thought kept coming to him. This was a crush. That was all it was. He’d had hundreds of them, over the years. A temporary infatuation. That was it. 

 

Besides, Patrick wasn’t his soulmate. So falling in love with him would be a massive faux-pas, on David’s part. It was a crush. He just kept telling himself it was a crush. The explosion of warmth and butterflies he’d had when Patrick told him he wasn’t there for his sister? Crush. The way he’d swooned when Patrick had promised he was going to “get the money”? Crush. The way something low in his belly had squirmed, sending a rush of blood to his cock, when Patrick had told him he had a “sloppy mouth”? Definitely a crush.

 

No, there was nothing unhealthy about this at all, he told himself, as he found himself staring longingly at Patrick’s denim-clad ass as he bent over, unloading a box he’d placed on the ground next to the back counter. On any other person, David would likely have been too repulsed by the fabric and brand choices to notice what was underneath. But not Patrick. Patrick made David want to write a personal apology letter to Old Navy. Because if they could make an ass look that good in $22 jeans, then he’d talked a lot of unnecessary shit over the years.

 

If Patrick was aware that he was the object of David’s lustful gaze, he didn’t let on, as he continued to unload the box he’d brought in, filling the bottom shelves first, much to David’s pleasure. David was supposed to be looking at light fixtures online, but he’d found himself a little distracted almost immediately after Patrick had emerged from the back room, carrying the heavy box of hair products. He just kept looking at Patrick, and thinking about how much he wanted him, and how wrong it was.

 

David still wasn’t sure how he felt about soulmates. He kind of hated them. Hated that they existed. Was not a world full of free will the better way? Where everyone was free to choose who to be with or not be with? Soulmates rigged the whole system. Too many people waited and waited and died alone and unhappy in a colourless world, because they would never find theirs. And most of them had probably met people that would have made them perfectly happy, but they passed them by, because of some romantic notion like something conjured out of a fairy tale. 

 

Other people, perhaps people like David, were driven mad after meeting and losing their soulmates. Living a life in technicolour, but never having actually identified the catalyst, the reason why.  And they lived their lives with a very different kind of empty feeling. One of loss more than longing. 

 

An entire industry had been built off of these people, sites that you could go to, to describe the time and place you were when you started seeing colour, to try to track down your match. Still, sometimes people never found each other.

 

And sometimes, on very rare occasions, a match did find each other, and they decided not to be together anyways. There  _ were _ a small number of people that just said fuck the system, and married who they wanted to marry. People with soulmates and without, choosing to be with someone different. David had recently found himself reading more and more about them, on the internet. Even now, he’d been browsing a blog, instead of the lowes lighting website like he was supposed to be doing. 

 

Because by that point, David was almost certain Patrick wasn’t his soulmate, no matter how hard his heart seemed to rebel against the idea.

 

So David continued down the blog entitled “UnMatched” and looked at the pictures of an ostensibly happy looking couple. He wanted to be like them. Not to care. He didn’t want a hockey player soulmate. He wanted Patrick. He wanted to flirt, and have butterflies, and a first kiss, and not to know whether things would work out or not because they weren’t a soul match, but to hope that it would. And he had always wanted someone else who didn’t care either, because David wanted someone to  _ choose _ him, not get stuck with him like some cosmic consolation prize. Because maybe the universe hadn’t bound them together, but maybe they could choose each other anyways. 

 

Except he  _ did _ sort of wish Patrick could have been the one. He was the one person who could maybe change David’s mind, make him happy to have one. But he wasn’t. They hadn’t talked about it explicitly, but David had been dropping  _ plenty _ of hints, and Patrick hadn’t responded at all. 

 

They had talked a  _ lot _ , over the past three weeks, as they slowly but surely had turned an empty general store into the vision David had always had, but hadn’t really known how to make happen, together. They’d talked about almost everything, as they’d assembled furniture, unloaded boxes, labeled and set out product, and so much more. They talked as they worked. But never about soulmates. David wasn’t sure if that was weird or not. Because no matter how hard David tried to casually steer the conversation in that direction, Patrick never seemed to take the bait. 

 

David was losing hope. He’d held on, for a while, telling himself that the pull he felt towards Patrick was almost too strong for it not to be him. His soul literally felt like it was being tugged towards Patrick, in whichever direction he was, like a compass pointing north. How could they not be? But now David wasn’t so sure. Because he’d finally gotten a bit of solid intelligence on Patrick’s coloured status, and it wasn’t what he’d been hoping to hear.

 

Earlier that week, in desperation, David had tried a new tactic. He’d asked Patrick’s opinion on two colours he was considering for the walls of the apothecary. A pale robin’s egg blue, and a tasteful eggshell. He’d held up the two swatches and asked what he thought, and Patrick stared at the two for a long moment before looking up at David. “They both look the same to me.” He’d said, and David’s heart had sank.  _ Patrick wasn’t coloured. He hadn’t met his soulmate yet. _

 

And yet… David still felt that unexplainable pull. What  _ was  _ that? So as he gazed at Patrick, unloading boxes across the room, a new idea hatched. He was deep in thought, and didn’t notice when Patrick had stopped shelving, and turned around.

 

“What are you-- do I have another tag on my shirt?” Patrick asked, suddenly reaching over his shoulder, groping the material on his back. Then he tried from a better angle under his arm, twisting adorably, trying to see his own back, spinning a little, like a dog chasing its tail. 

 

“Sorry, what? Oh--” David shook his head, clearing it of the day dream he’d been indulging in. He’d totally been staring at Patrick as he’d worked, a lot of that time spent focused on his perfect ass in those  _ incorrect _ jeans. Shit. “No, as tragic as it already is that you shop at any establishment that would disrespect their own fabrics by affixing a  _ sticker _ onto it, you do not now have one anywhere that I can see. How will the world know what size your shirt is now?” David replied haughtily, and enjoyed the little smile that spread on Patrick’s face.

  
  
  


As the days went by, they got closer and closer to their grand opening, and David thought he should be a lot more stressed about it, if he was being perfectly honest. But he had been spending  _ so _ much time with Patrick, and for some reason, when he was around him, it was like the stress just beaded up and rolled right off of him. Like rain off an umbrella, or a newly waxed car. And Patrick was so good at this, such a natural at all the little things that David had no idea of and wouldn’t have had the first real clue as to how to handle. He knew everything was in order. Now all that remained was for the public to recognize what David knew in his heart: this place was special.

 

He and Patrick had built something truly winsome here. And the most important part to David, was that they’d done it all  _ together _ . To the point where this place, despite looking exactly like the vision David had had in his head for months, felt just as much a part of Patrick as it did a part of himself. They shared this place together, this place that was getting almost close to done. They’d be opening in less than a week, all that was left now was some product that hadn’t come in yet, and some finishing touches.

 

Almost reluctantly, David had left Patrick in the mid afternoon because, without their last shipment that was due the next day, there really wasn’t much left for him to do. Also, David kept distracting Patrick from his accounting or bookkeeping or business planning, or whatever it was he did, so Patrick had not-so-subtly suggested David pack it in for the day. 

 

So that was how David had found himself sitting on the picnic table out back of the motel, smoking a skunky joint and talking about his week with Stevie. It had been getting longer and longer, between them spending time together, though that was to be expected with the store getting ready to open, and Stevie’s increased responsibilities at the motel. 

 

“I’ve missed this.” David said, staring down at the now small burning joint, held elegantly between his index and middle fingers, and then over at Stevie. 

 

“What, hanging out with me, or smoking weed?” She asked, narrowing her eyes, and David smiled.

 

“Yes.” He agreed.

 

“Asshole.” She said, giving him the finger, and David’s eyes crinkled with mischief.

 

“Why would you be friends with an asshole?” He asked, and Stevie rolled her eyes and reached for the now very stubby joint, and David passed it to her. 

 

“I never did have the best judgement.” She replied, and David laughed. He stayed quiet though, because he had an idea that she might be working up to saying something else.  _ Asking _ something else, more like it. He’d been waiting for it since he’d seen her, because it had been at least a week since the last time she asked. “When are we roadtripping to Hamilton?” She asked, without even attempting a segue at all. Just jumping right to the point. Classic Stevie. She tossed took one last hit off the tiny roach, and threw it away into the rocky turf.

 

David took in a deep breath, and exhaled. “I’ve been really busy with the store.” He replied. Same thing he’d told her last time. “After we open, probably. Once things settle down.” Again, the same thing he’d told her last time. 

 

“Okay, but don’t you think this is kind of important?” She asked, less patient than she’d been the last time. She knew he was outright avoiding it, at this point. But, this was Stevie. She’d always known he was avoiding it. In all matters, she always saw right through him. David sighed. 

 

“Yeah…” He agreed noncommittally. “But so is the store. The hockey guy can wait… until after.” Stevie nodded, slowly, and yet David got the distinct impression that she didn’t agree. 

 

“Have you tried any of those websites or apps that connect soulmates? To find him?” She pushed, and David sighed again, although maybe it was more of a scoff.

 

“I’ve been busy.” He had, it wasn’t a lie. Maybe not too busy to check on an app, considering he’d spent at least 45 minutes today just watching Patrick work, but she didn’t have to know that.

 

“It’s because of Patrick, isn’t it?” She asked, and David knew the answer was written all over his face, and he had long suspected that Stevie might be able to read his thoughts, so there was no point lying to her.

 

“Ugh. Yes.” He laid back on the picnic table and looked up at the sky. It was the most brilliant blue with little puffs of white clouds. He thought back to when it all would have been a wash of light greys. He might not have even seen the little wispy clouds at all. 

 

“And you’re sure it isn’t him?” She asked. She knew he’d been there, that Patrick was a possibility. Or, that he  _ had _ been. She knew David had been hoping it was him, and David thought she might also know that his little crush had been growing faster than a snowball rolling downhill, especially since Patrick had come on board as his business partner. 

 

“Yes.” He replied. “No.” He added. “I don’t know.”

 

“You sound really sure about that.” Stevie replied dryly.

 

“You sound really sure about your  _ face. _ ” David snapped back, and enjoyed a rare laugh from his best friend. 

 

“So you’re not actually sure it isn’t him?” She pressed on, undaunted.

 

“Well, I’m  _ pretty _ sure. I don’t think he can see colours at all, and if he can’t, then it can’t be him.” 

 

“Okay, but did you  _ ask _ him?” 

 

“I can’t just  _ ask _ him, Stevie!” David replied, horrified at the thought.

 

“You’re right, that would be  _ awful. _ ” Stevie rolled her eyes.

 

“But you’re not entirely sure it isn’t him. Like, not 100%.” She clarified, and David wobbled his head. 

 

“I’d say there is still maybe a 1-2% chance it could be him.” He admitted, and looked over to see Stevie looking thoughtful.

 

“So what are you going to do?” She asked, and David sighed yet again. He seemed to be doing that a lot today, and he wondered if it was the weed, or Stevie, or the general condition of his life. Probably all three.

 

“Well, I had this idea…”

  
  
  
  
  


The next day, David swallowed back the bile in his throat, as he donned his sweater for the day. He’d almost burned it, when he’d found out it wasn’t monochromatic, as he’d always thought. He still shuddered, thinking back to all those times he’d worn it, and had no idea what an absolute  _ idiot  _ he looked like. Honestly, he had no idea what business an $1100 sweater had being covered in pastel pinks and blues and yellows like a fucking easter egg, and why those would be peppered around on top of a harsh black and white geometric pattern. It was like art therapy day in an asylum for the criminally insane. 

 

Bottom line: this sweater was  _ fugly. _ And ever since David had been able to see colour, he had purged almost all of it from his wardrobe, except for a few choice pieces that he actually still liked. Patrick had only ever seen him in black and white. It was his aesthetic. Patrick knew that. He also liked to think that Patrick knew him well enough that he’d never be seen in something like this.

 

It was all part of the plan. David was going to  _ trick _ Patrick into telling him if he could see colour or not. He couldn’t  _ not _ say something, if  he saw David in this particular sweater. He couldn’t. 

 

So David had marched himself to the general store, trying not to read into every passing person’s stare, wishing he could be invisible, just until he got to work at least. When he got there, there were men outside on ladders, installing the Rose Apothecary sign. And Patrick was standing there, watching. He was facing away from him, and didn’t see David coming, which gave him a few extra seconds to compose himself. David took a deep breath, and approached him.

 

“I forgot today was sign day.” He said, when he was still a few feet away, and Patrick turned to look at him. He’d been smiling, subtly, as he watched the sign go up, but as he took in the sight of David, his smile grew, and David felt those familiar butterflies in his stomach begin to flutter. Patrick’s eyes darted down to David’s chest, taking in his outfit, and David held his breath, and tried to read Patrick’s expression.  _ Could he see how hideous he looked? _

 

If he could, Patrick wasn’t very forthcoming with his reaction. His smile  _ did _ turn up in one corner, like a little smirk, but that was it, and he was looking into David’s eyes again, and David was more confused than ever. 

 

“Do you like my sweater?” David asked, and hoped that Patrick would think he was simply fishing for compliments, and not Patrick’s soulmate status. 

 

“I like all your sweaters.” Patrick replied, smiling at David, and then turning back to watch the sign go up. They were just putting up the ‘E’ in Rose. “I might not  _ get _ them, but I like them.” He added, teasing, and David rolled his eyes, but stepped beside Patrick to watch the ‘E’ go up. His plan had failed. He would have to think of something else.

 

And honestly, it was hard to be that disappointed, when he felt Patrick’s hand find his back, and begin to rub up and down in gentle, soothing, strokes. “Look what you did, David. Do you agree now, that it’s kind of a big deal?” He continued to look up at the sign as he spoke, but when he finished, he looked over at David. And they were standing so close, that David was able to notice the tiny specks of gold in his rich brown eyes. He could barely form words, his whole body had ached with need the second Patrick had touched him. But he forced himself.

 

“What  _ we _ did.” David corrected. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you, but I think you know that.” He enjoyed the way Patrick blushed at this, and then David looked back up at the sign and wobbled his head. “And it’s not  _ not _ a big deal.” He reluctantly agreed.

  
  
  
  


His next attempt to trick Patrick had happened two days before they were due to open. One of their vendors had come by with the brooms they’d ordered, but David had been a little horrified to find that they had the  _ fugliest _ red handles he’d ever seen. They didn’t vibe with his aesthetic even a little, to the point where, if he placed them on the floor, he might as well also start stocking toilet plungers and a display of Crocs, right at the front of the store. Because obviously, he had no taste at all.

 

But the brooms were made by one of his most important vendors, sort of a side project, and he’d already agreed to stock them, so there wasn’t much he could do. And they  _ had _ given him one very good idea. Another opportunity to try to get a gauge on whether Patrick was monochromatic or not. 

 

So, later in the day, when Patrick was in the back doing something or other, David had set the brooms out on display. At the  _ front _ of the store. This would  _ have _ to get a reaction out of Patrick! 

 

But, once again, David was disappointed. Patrick had eventually emerged, his nose pointed down at the papers in his hand, and when he looked up, his eyes fell on the brooms. David waited with bated breath to see the look of horror and disgust on Patrick’s face, but instead, he was sadly met with a  _ smile. _ “You put the brooms out.” Was all he said, and David stopped himself from stomping his foot.

 

“Yeah… what do you think about the placement? At the front of the store… any thoughts?” David asked, waiting and hoping for Patrick to comment on those god-awful red handles, and how they don’t match a single thing around them. But instead, Patrick just continued to smile serenely.

 

“I think it’s great, those have a great margin.” Patrick responded, and… that wasn’t helpful at all. David sighed, and went and collected the entire display in his arms, and began to walk them to the back of the store. “Hey, what are you doing?” Patrick asked.

 

“I changed my mind, I think these would be better… in the back.” David explained, although, he didn’t explain very  _ well. _ But it was okay, because Patrick was leaving product placement and general store aesthetic to David. What  _ wasn’t _ okay was the fact that David still had no idea whether Patrick was his soulmate, or even whether he could see in colour or not. 

 

He was beginning to think Stevie was right. Maybe they should just talk about it. They talked about everything else. But there was no time, in the next two days, they were too busy getting the store ready to open. Saturday was their big day. Surely it could wait until after then.

 

Although, it was getting harder and harder to wait. The pull David felt towards Patrick, the one that felt like it was coming from deep inside his chest, making him want to close any distance between them, to put his hands on Patrick’s body, or his lips on his lips, was getting so much stronger, David thought he might break under the strain. 

 

If Patrick wasn’t his soulmate, David didn’t want one. 

  
  
  
  
  


Opening day could not have gone better. Sure, their soft launch had turned out to be a lot harder than David had been planning, but in the end, it had been nothing short of a massive success. They’d done much better than they’d expected, even with the friends and family discount. And most importantly, the public seemed to  _ love _ the store. Many had promised to come back soon, and bring friends. 

 

David had of course been focused on the customers, but he and Patrick had been catching eyes all day, sharing little smiles. Patrick had even winked at him once. David’s insides had been squirming from the second he’d gotten to the store, and it had only gotten worse as the day went on. David was  _ desperate _ for Patrick. He couldn’t explain it, why he seemed to be steadily losing all of his willpower and control. But it had gotten so bad that by 3 o’clock, he’d been ready to sweep all the product off the table and pull Patrick down on top of him, customers be damned. 

 

“David?” Mrs. Moore asked, still holding two different varieties of night cream in her hand, looking up at him for guidance. David shook his head, and realized he’d been daydreaming right in the middle of making a sale.  _ What the hell was going on? _

 

“Huh? Oh. I’m sorry, I was just-- This one.” He said, pointing at the bottle in her right hand. “It will take care of any of that dryness you’re getting, and the lavender scent doubles as aromatherapy and aids sleep. Put it on right before you go to bed, every night.” He added, and that seemed to make her happy. She smiled at him, and took a second bottle.

 

“Thank you dear. What a wonderful store you’ve got here. I can’t wait to tell the girls at the quilting club.” She said, and David felt this strange feeling… he thought it might be pride. He didn’t know, he wasn’t used to it. David had always been a proud person, but it had always been unearned. He’d never actually  _ felt _ real pride before, he didn’t think. Even with the gallery. He hadn’t created it, literally out of nothing, like he had the Rose Apothecary.

 

No… he  _ and _ Patrick had created it. David felt another flush wash over him, and he looked over to where his business partner stood behind the desk, talking sweetly with one of Twyla’s aunts. She must have been from a wealthy branch of the Sands clan, because she had a  _ lot _ of product on the counter. 

 

David was standing towards the back of the store, out of Patrick’s eyeline. He sighed and watched him work for a few seconds, but then, as if he knew he was being watched, Patrick turned his head and looked right at David. And David felt like a feather in a gust of wind, completely knocked back by the weight of his gaze. Was David crazy, or was there something  _ dark _ and  _ hungry _ in those eyes? He looked at David like David might look at a slice of pizza or a burger and fries on cheat day.

 

It was all David could do to survive until the end of the day.

 

But, eventually, they made it. 

 

At 6:25, almost a half hour after they were supposed to close, Patrick had finally walked the last customer to the door, thanked her for her business, and then locked it behind her. With a deep breath, he flipped the sign to ‘closed’, and turned to face David. He was still holding his breath, and let it out in a relieved sigh, once his eyes met David’s.

 

“Well, I think today qualifies as a success, what do you think, David?” Patrick asked, and casually took a step closer.

 

“Mm, yes, well, it would seem that my haunting nightmares of no one except Roland and Bob showing up were unfounded.” David agreed, and took a small step closer to Patrick.

 

“It’s almost like we didn’t  _ need _ a friends and family discount…” Patrick replied, smirking at David. He took another small step forward.

 

“Huh, yeah, well, I would say one could argue that  _ without _ the discount, many of our patrons may not have shown up at all. And now, discount or not, they’re going to be forced to come back once they run out. And they  _ will _ come back.” He edged forward, enjoying Patrick’s smirk.

 

There was a pause. Patrick’s eyes dropped, raking over David’s body, before returning back to his face. They were warm, and bright, and there was something  _ else _ there, in his partner’s gaze. David knew what he  _ wanted  _ it to be, but he didn’t dare hope for something so great. 

 

Finally, when the weight of the silence became almost too much to bear, Patrick smiled, and opened his arms. “Congratulations, David. You really made something special here.” David wanted to rush into his arms, wrap himself up in Patrick, but he had to say  _ one _ thing first. Because what Patrick had just said was  _ incorrect. _

 

“No.” He disagreed. “ _ We _ did. You know I couldn’t have done this without you.” And, having said what he needed to say, he didn’t wait for a reply before stepping forward into Patrick’s waiting arms. 

 

Hugging Patrick was like going home again. David didn’t really know what that  _ meant _ , considering he didn’t really know where his home  _ was _ anymore. But, then again, maybe he did? Maybe it was  right here, in Patrick’s warm embrace. David and Patrick sighed contentedly, almost in unison, and David smiled into Patrick’s shoulder and squeezed him tighter.

 

Patrick was a  _ good _ hugger. He wasn’t one of those people that hugged you with their arms, and not their body. He didn’t do any awkward bro-back-slapping. His entire body slotted into place against David’s, like it was designed to fit there, and his arms held him close, his palms and fingers rubbing gentle circles into David’s back. David never wanted Patrick to let go. And he didn’t, not for a very long time.

 

It was a very long hug.

 

Eventually, David thought he should maybe be the one to pull away, and he tried. But Patrick didn’t seem to want to let go, and David didn’t want to force him. After another long moment, they came apart naturally. But, as they withdrew, David felt Patrick’s cheek brush past his, and they paused, their faces still only inches away from each other. David felt his breath catch in his chest as he was pinned, frozen in place, by the intensity of Patrick’s gaze.

 

His pupils were blown wide, almost blacking out the warm browns and golds of Patrick’s irises. His eyes flashed down to David’s lips, and then back up to meet his gaze again. It was like an out-of-body experience. David wasn’t sure this could possibly be real, it was just too good. He  _ felt _ too good. This was going to happen. It couldn’t happen fast enough. It was like every molecule in David’s body wanted to jump forward to merge with Patrick’s. 

 

David’s soulmate was the last thing on his mind, as he saw Patrick make his move. Well, he did cross David’s mind, but only in a ‘fuck that guy, he can’t be as good as Patrick’ sort of way. Because Patrick was leaning in, and they were about to kiss, and David could never imagine wanting anything more badly. The universe had made a mistake. It should have chosen Patrick.  _ David was going to choose Patrick anyways. _

 

And then their lips met, and it was like heroin straight to the veins, as the world exploded into colour, even behind his closed eyelids. There were fireworks,  _ literal fireworks _ , and it was like the entire world shifted away, leaving nothing but Patrick and David. 

 

Patrick must have felt it too. It was like an electric shock, but not  _ bad. _ It was actually  _ really good.  _ It was just… startling. They both jumped apart, alarmed. Had they been dosed with some sort of psychogenic hallucinogen? Did Mr. Hockley grow mushrooms on that farm, as well? What David had felt, the instant Patrick’s lips had touched his own, was nothing he had ever experienced before. Hell, it was nothing David would have previously thought was  _ possible.  _ It had no explanation in biology or physics or whatever the hell science could explain what had just happened.

 

When they pulled away, David’s eyes opened, and he saw Patrick’s, open wide, staring at him with a reverence and excitement that David couldn’t understand. It took him a full second or two to realize that Patrick was in full, glorious technicolour… but the world around them had returned to its previous monochrome. Also, all the background noises had faded away. Except for Patrick’s harsh breathing. It was so quiet, David thought he could hear both of their hearts pounding. Maybe he could. It was like being in a vacuum, where the only two people in the universe that existed anymore, were the two of them.

 

All at once, David realized. 

 

_ Patrick was his soulmate. _

 

Patrick seemed to have already figured this out, and was stepping back in for another kiss, but David stepped backwards, avoiding him. He didn’t know why he’d done it. It was an instinct, like something that had been hardwired into him, that wouldn’t allow the second kiss to happen. He was overwhelmed. Patrick stopped, and looked at David, his expression dropping from one of ecstacy, to one of worry. David felt panic wash over him, and a pressure began to build up inside of him. 

 

“David, what’s wrong--” Patrick began, but David was already shaking his head, an anxiety attack bubbling up and gripping him by the throat. His head shaking became wild.

 

“I can’t--” He choked, before turning and running away.

  
  
  


The moment the door closed behind him, sound and colour returned to the world around him. It was like he’d burst the bubble, and it was both relieving, and incredibly grief-inducing. The first thing he felt struck by was  _ loss. _ A deep, sucking, aching feeling of loss and regret. 

 

But the hardwired feelings of insecurity and  _ unworthiness _ were stronger. At least for now. Not to mention the fact that he’d spent so long telling himself that he didn’t need or want a soulmate, that he could make his own decisions in life, that he honestly felt himself almost ripped in two by the dissonance of it all. The overwhelming feelings kept him moving, no,  _ running  _ away. He needed distance, he needed space. He needed to dig a hole and hide in it, and never come out.

 

_ Patrick was his soulmate. _ He couldn’t believe it. He honestly couldn't believe it. He’d spent so much time convincing himself that it wasn’t true, he had never really considered what he would do if it  _ was. _

 

David  _ thought _ he should be happy about this. He’d fantasized about being with Patrick. About not being stuck with some hockey player west of Toronto, not even one bound for the NHL. He had  _ wanted this. So badly.  _ But he’d never thought, if he got Patrick like he’d been wanting for so long, that it would be because they were soulmates. In his fantasies, they’d always chosen each other, despite the fact that the universe had made other plans for them. 

 

_ That _ was how this was supposed to be going!

 

But it hadn't gone that way, and as a result, David’s flight reflex had been triggered. Oh,  _ fuck _ , had he been triggered.

 

Because even if David wanted this, it didn’t matter if David wanted Patrick to be  _ his _ soulmate. Because, if David was being really honest with himself, that wasn’t in question. Of course David wanted Patrick to be his soulmate. He’d never wanted anything more in his entire life. But he’d never really stopped to consider the other side of that coin. Yes, Patrick was David’s soulmate. But that also meant that  _ David _ was  _ Patrick’s  _ soulmate.

 

And, oh, that poor, poor man. 

 

As David ran, all he could think about was how that reality would hit home for Patrick, once the drug-like effect of their match wore off. He would realize what the universe had stuck him with, and how he didn’t have a choice. Or maybe Patrick would be one of those people that didn’t put much stock in the universe, and would leave him anyways. That idea actually gave David a little bit of comfort.

 

Because David didn’t want to be destiny’s consolation prize to Patrick. He didn’t want Patrick to be with him, just because they had been cosmically matched, or whatever the hell force was behind the unexplainable connections. He didn’t want Patrick to be stuck with him.  _ He wanted Patrick to choose him. _

 

But no one would ever choose David Rose, if given an option. 

  
  
  
  
  


When David stopped running, he realized what he’d done. He hadn’t been headed in any particular direction, and his eyes had been closed half the time, and blurry with tears the other. He’d been moving more on instinct than anything else, and when he came to a stop, he finally realized that all he’d done was a loop of the block. He’d circled around, and just up ahead was the store. 

 

And Patrick. 

 

Patrick was standing outside, his hands trying to grasp at his short hair, looking back and forth desperately, a pained expression on his face. And then he saw David, and the  _ utter relief _ that showed in his features made David’s heart ache. Patrick ran towards him.

 

“David!” He choked, and David tried to collect himself. He swallowed what felt like a massive lump in his throat, and he wiped at his eyes with his hands, trying to clear the tears. He sniffed, and swallowed again. 

 

“Hi.” David replied, and Patrick reached out to him, but seemed to freeze half way, looking down at his hand and then letting it drop.

 

“I was so worried-- why did--”

 

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this Patrick. I can’t.” David cut him off.

 

“Don’t be sorry. Just… explain. So I can understand.” Patrick replied, and he was so steady, so calm, despite obviously being a bit of a wreck himself. David could tell that he, too, had been crying. David felt that calm steadiness ground him, like he was sending him soothing energy, and David fed on it. He allowed it to wash over him, he took a deep breath, and for one of the first times in his life, he prepared to speak with unfiltered, unhesitant, unabridged honesty. 

 

“You won’t like it.” He warned, and Patrick swallowed deeply.

 

“I can take it.” He replied, and he squared his stance, and crossed his arms, like he was preparing to hear bad news, and bear it like a champ. 

 

“I just… I didn’t… want that. To be your soulmate. Or I thought I didn’t. Or I  _ think I don’t.  _ I’m honestly very confused and overwhelmed by the whole thing, so…” David started. It wasn’t a great start, but he was talking from the heart. 

 

“Okay.” Patrick acknowledged, and David watched as Patrick’s features looked for a brief moment like he had swallowed a very bitter pill. “Okay, explain, if you can. Please.” He continued.

“I mean… I don’t want to date you  _ just _ because you’re my soul mate!” David snapped back, not knowing where the bite in his words had come from. Why he felt defensive. He chalked it up to heightened emotions, and continued. “I don’t want  _ you _ to be with  _ me _ , just because  _ I’m _ your soulmate. I want to be with someone that  _ chooses  _ me, Patrick! Now that we’ve had the decision made for us, though, doesn’t something inside you just want to rebel against the lack of choice?” 

 

David watched as Patrick absorbed his words, and winced, waiting for Patrick to agree. To confirm David’s worst fears, that he wouldn't have chosen him. That their connection was only ever because of a soul bond. But instead of nodding, Patrick began shaking his head.

 

“There’s always a choice, David.” Patrick countered, and David narrowed his eyes at him.

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

“I’m not sure that I do. We can’t be together,  _ because _ we’re soulmates? Is that what you’re saying?” He asked, his eyes boring holes into David’s.

 

“Yeah. Yes. I am not the universe’s  _ plaything _ , Patrick. Like you said, there’s always choices. Don’t you think that maybe we should just put our feet down, and say no?” David replied, and was taken by surprise when Patrick let out a hearty laugh, and an adorable little smirk snuck its way onto his face.

 

“Do you ever do what you’re told, David? What if I got your mother to forbid us from dating, would that satisfy your teenage need to rebel?” Patrick asked, dryly. And David couldn’t help the smile that cracked on his own face, in return.

 

“That might not hurt, actually…” Patrick huffed a soft laugh, before his face fell into a serious expression again, his eyes wide, and searching David’s.

 

“David… is the only reason you don’t want to date me because I’m your soulmate? Or is there another reason, too? Do you not like me like that? Are you not attracted to me? Because if that’s it, I promise I’ll back off. But… forgive me for saying this. But if the only reason you aren’t giving me-- giving  _ us _ \--a chance is because we are apparently soulmates, well… well then that’s just fucking bullshit! Of course I choose you, David! I always would have chosen you.  _ Fuck soulmates. _ ” David felt his jaw drop.

 

“ _ Excuse you!? _ I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear!” David replied, completely in shock, and not knowing what to do with the information he had just taken in. Patrick  _ wanted _ to be with him? He always would have chosen him?  _ Fuck soulmates? _ David felt a bubble of joy and hope rise in his chest. And for once, he didn’t try to suppress it, to stamp it down and burst it before it was able to settle in his heart. 

 

“Yeah, well, I do swear. When I’m worked up about something.” Patrick replied, a little out of breath. His eyes looked wild and desperate, and all David wanted to do was to grab his face and pull their lips together. 

 

But he couldn’t help himself from teasing him. 

 

“And would you say you’re worked up, now?” He asked, innocently, and Patrick threw his head back and groaned. 

 

“You could say that, David. Yes.” David smiled, more than satisfied. But he couldn’t help himself, he needed to clarify. He needed to be sure. 

 

“...so, that’s not the only reason you’re interested in me, then? Because we’re soulmates?” 

 

“Excuse me? I liked you a long time before I knew you were my soulmate, David.” Patrick replied, shaking his head a little incredulously. But he was smiling.  _ He looked happy. _ It made David’s heart sing. But there was one thing left he had to say, one big, massive insecurity that was still weighing him down that he had to get off his chest.

 

“You know… I know a lot of people wouldn’t choose me, if given the choice. And you weren’t exactly given one. So I just… want you to know… that I’d be okay. If you didn’t want me I mean, I just don’t want you to feel pressured-- I don’t want  you to date me just because you feel you have to. I know I can be a lot…” He spoke awkwardly, looking mostly up at the sky, and only chancing small peeks down at Patrick. But when he did, he’d see Patrick looking at him with patience and affection, and David felt himself get lighter and lighter, as he unloaded.

 

When he was finished speaking, he held his breath and waited for a response. Patrick smiled.

 

“I know you can be a lot, David.” He agreed. And David felt a rush of ice cold panic run through his veins.

 

“Oh, okay then. So I guess…” He said, trailing off. He couldn’t say the words. It was too hard. But Patrick rolled his eyes, and smiled fondly, if a little exasperatedly, at David.

 

“David… I  _ like _ that you’re a lot. I’m  _ greedy _ for you. I want more. I can never get enough. I  _ want _ you to be a lot. I want you to be  _ more. _ David, I  _ am _ choosing you. Please believe me, if soulmates never existed, I’d still choose you. If we hadn’t matched, that day in the cafe, but everything else remained the same between us now. Knowing we had soulmates out there, waiting for us… I’d still choose you. _ Fuck soulmates _ , David. The universe didn’t pick for me. I’m picking on my own. And I’m picking you.” The words poured out of Patrick, and he spoke with passion and desperation and joy and exultation. 

 

He looked at David, smiling, eyes wide, and waited. Waited for David to respond. And as David felt the smile crack on his own face, he saw relief wash over Patrick’s. David sniffed. “I pick you too.” He said, and Patrick’s returning smile was probably a blinding hazard to passing drivers. 

 

“You do?” He asked, making sure, and David choked back a sob as he smiled and looked at Patrick through tears that were for some reason forming in his eyes. 

 

“Yes. I do. I’d choose you too, Patrick. Even if we weren’t soulmates. Although… I’m glad we are.” He said, and then he sniffed, and laughed, and tossed his head back and rolled his eyes. “You know, because it is  _ so  _ much more convenient being able to see colours. I feel like my aesthetic has been elevated greatly by this new ability. If I couldn’t, I might have actually stocked those fugly brooms somewhere you could see them from the front of the store! Can you  _ imagine? _ ” David said, and Patrick laughed, stepping into David’s space, and placing his hands on his hips.

 

“Those brooms have  _ excellent _ margins, David.” Patrick said, teasing a little, pausing just inches from David’s mouth. 

 

“Yeah, well, they also have the  _ ugliest _ goddamn handles I’ve ever seen.” David replied, and he looked down at Patrick’s lips, that had turned up in that confident little smirk of his, and when he looked back up at him, Patrick was leaning in.

 

 

When their lips touched, the world went quiet again, and just like last time, all of the colour had drained from the world around them. Somehow, it was almost like it had been absorbed into  _ them. _ They were more saturated and bright than they should be, David thought. Not that his eyes were doing much looking around. Instead, they closed, as Patrick’s hands slid up his back and pulled him close, his lips parting, and tongue confidently pushing forward to meet David’s. 

 

Just like before, it felt like a drug.  _ Euphoric _ was the only word David could use to describe it. This  _ had _ to be a soulmate thing. Some cosmic reward for finding the person you were meant to be with. And already, David was  _ addicted.  _ And it seemed like Patrick was, too. Suddenly, David realized he’d been an idiot to be scared of being Patrick’s soulmate. Because if being Patrick’s soulmate meant that they got to experience  _ this  _ together, then it was clearly the single greatest gift the universe had ever provided to David.

 

They kissed, and they kissed, and they kissed. They were entirely alone, entranced and enraptured with one another, in their vacuum, their bubble. There was no one else in the entire universe, but the two of them. 

 

So they kissed. And when soon the kissing didn’t seem enough, they ran, hand in hand, back inside the store and to the back room, clothes being shed the moment they stepped inside, and the bubble followed them. David spared a moment’s thought to wonder if it would always feel like this, so intense, so  _ magnified. _ It was like every touch was electric, and David’s body was humming with need, a need that only Patrick could fulfill. He wondered if Patrick felt it too. But by the way he was acting, David thought he did. 

 

David had almost lost every bit of self control, but when he got an almost-naked Patrick pinned to the wall of their back office, a flash of self control and propriety flashed through David’s mind. Maybe this was a bit much, a bit soon? Soulmates or no soulmates?

 

“Should we… slow down? Do you want to go slower?” David asked, and looked deep into Patrick’s eyes, wanting to read the answer there as much as hear it from him. He saw the answer immediately and flushed with joy and anticipation. Patrick was shaking his head. A little at first, and then more wildly.

 

“No. No I don’t, David.” Was all he said, and then he grabbed David’s face and pulled him in for a deep kiss that relayed to David just how passionate Patrick was feeling at the moment. David smiled into the kiss, but didn’t break it. At least, not until he dropped to his knees, intent on kissing something  _ else. _

 

And it turned out that the soulbond made a lot more than just  _ kissing _ feel amazing. Better than amazing, in fact. It felt transcendent. Like the strongest of drugs, to which David had instantly become an addict. But it felt… okay. Because being with Patrick could never be wrong. David knew that know. In his mind, in his heart, in his  _ bones.  _ Patrick was his, and he was Patrick’s. And that’s how it always would be, from then on. 

  
  


And for the first time, perhaps in David’s entire life… he was truly happy. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> You asked for minimal angst and I added perhaps a tad more than minimal, but I really hope you liked it! We all knew there was going to be a happy ending anyways ;)
> 
> And anyone reading, I'd love to hear what you thought about my first shot at a soulmate fic!
> 
> I hope you're having a great Open Fic Night, everyone!


End file.
